In the fall of 1808, the Betty, a Marblehead fishing schooner, was on a homeward-bound voyage from the Grand Banks. The night was stormy and the seas were rough. The Betty was hailed by a ship in distress, the fishing schooner, Active. Betty’s skipper Floyd Ireson did not answer the call, nor did he lay by the ship until morning, as was a common practice in high seas when rescue was impossible. The Betty sailed straight home to Marblehead. When the ship docked, the crew made their way to the local tavern and told their version of the story. Townsfolk were horrified, as the account violated every unwritten law of the sea. To leave fellow mariners in distress, without even a gesture toward helping them, was the worst crime imaginable.
The next night, a crowd of men and women appeared at Ireson’s house. He lived at 19 Circle St. The fishermen of Marblehead and their wives and families were incensed by Ireson’s behavior. They took him, tied him up and proceeded to tar and feather him. This process is often described in a humorous way, but in fact it was a cruel and painful process.
Boiling hot tar burned the skin, followed by chicken feathers with sharp quills that pierced the burned flesh. Once Ireson was tarred and feathered, he was placed in an old dory and dragged through the streets of Marblehead. Townsfolk came out to cheer the action and jeer at the skipper. The crowd and the dory were halted by Salem constables as they came down the hill from Marblehead into Salem. Ireson was released and sent home, but his career as a ship’s captain was over. He ended his life as a poor old man, selling fish from a cart.
Many years later, John Greenleaf Whittier heard the story. He made it into an epic ballad, published as “Skipper Ireson’s Ride” in 1857.
“The strangest ride that ever was sped, Was Ireson’s out of Marblehead! Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart, By the women of Marblehead.”
By the time the poem was printed and circulated, Ireson was dead. He had always claimed that he wanted to stop and help the distressed ship, but his crew refused.
The story was an embarrassment for Marblehead fishermen, the women of Marblehead and the reputation of the town. Town historian Samuel Roads Jr. was so distressed by the poem that he wrote the “true” story of Ireson’s ride in “The History and Traditions of Marblehead.” He also wrote a letter to Whittier explaining Ireson’s innocence. Whittier sent a letter of apology, and many Marbleheaders came to believe that Ireson was not to blame. As Roads stated, “for the credit of the town, be it said, that it is one of the few incidents in its entire history that its citizens have any reason to regret.”
The truth of whatever happened on board the Betty that night will never be known, but the poem lives on, as does Skipper Ireson’s infamy. His house on Circle Street still stands and remains an attraction due to Ireson’s notoriety and Whittier’s fame.
Pam Peterson chairs the Marblehead Historical Commission. She is the former executive director of the Marblehead Museum.
